


A room of pink

by TheForestUnderQuarantine



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/F, Grief, Language of Flowers, Memory Room, loss of castle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:35:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29483076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheForestUnderQuarantine/pseuds/TheForestUnderQuarantine
Summary: Romelle tries to cheer the Princess up after the battle with Lotor. The Castle is about to be lost. There is no time for grief, but together they take a moment to allow Allura to process her loss.For Romellura Prompt Week 2021: Prompt 1: The Meaning of Flowers
Relationships: Allura/Romelle (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	A room of pink

“Princess?” Romelle approached the young lady on the Holodeck with caution. The caution was mostly out of respect to Allura’s privacy and not wanting to startle her in her silence, but Romelle would be lying to herself if she didn’t recognise part of it came from being awestruck. 

Starstruck. 

Allura was a silver star from which she, feeling like the world’s plainest planet, could only hope to orbit. 

The princess was sitting in a field of pink flowers Romelle had never seen before. She was still in her paladin armour, still wary and prepared for battle. She would still have to be on high alert. The Castle ship was set to be blown up within the next hour. But sitting like this, legs curled up on the side, she looked a little freer from her duties. Romelle in the short time she had known the Princess had only ever seen her with her hair up. Romelle thought she was beautiful then. But with her hair down, curls cascading freely down her back like the world’s clearest waterfall on a full moon painted night, Romelle had found a new measure for beauty. 

“Hm?” The Princess glanced away from her field of flowers, her blue-pink eyes locking with Romelle’s purple. “Oh. Romelle, was it? Yes, Romelle. Whatever do you need?”

“The man with the moustache who seems like a funny old uncle—Korra? Coran?—asked me to come find you. He said you’d be here and that,” she puffed out her chest and struck a tragic pose, hoping that her years of doing impressions of the other Alteans she knew to make Bandor life would similarly ingratiate herself to the Princess and make her feel at ease. She broke character quickly to add bunny quotes with her fingers, to let her know she was quoting the man. Bunnies lived everywhere in the galaxy. She cleared her throat and deepened her voice to begin:

“‘The Princess will be lost and reminiscing in the time she has left in the castle. Everyone is busy filling their lions with their possessions, getting lost in their own memories. She could really use a friend right now and I know you do not know her yet, but you have done a great service for her and for all of us in exposing Lotor’s trickery, even if it was scary.’—it wasn’t scary by the way. I only broke down a little before confronting the Prince because I hate confrontation. Not that he was intimidating! Not at all! you can ask Keith the broody one with the broodier mother. I wasn’t scared aha … aha … anyway— ‘Even though she is hurting at Lotor’s, she does not blame you. In fact, I am positive the Princess appreciates such bravery and honesty. You do credit to our kind. So if you could go be brave together while I got everything set up to explode while saving everything I can, I’d really appreciate it.’ So here I am. Ta-da!” 

Romelle struck a pose and gave a cheesy, reassuring grin. The Princess returned it weakly. 

“Coran worries too much. I was simply,” her eyes swept over the simulated fields, getting lost in the castle’s imitation of a gentle breeze. “Appreciating what time I have left in my home remembering my planet.”

“Oh,” Romelle instantly deflated. She bit her lip. “Sorry, I’ll try and tone it down a bit. It is a solemn occasion.”

Allura’s smile reached her eyes. “It is. But please never tone yourself down for anybody. Your energy is perfect just the way it is. I can tell you’re going to make me laugh, when I am able to.”

“I very much look forward to hearing you laugh!” Romelle brightened, then determination set on her face. “And that sounds like a challenge. On days that aren’t too sad, I promise I will make you laugh at least thrice daily!”

The smile disappeared completely, replaced instead by wide eyes and a parted mouth ‘oh’ as Allura really seemed to focus and really see Romelle for the first time. 

Romelle hoped her sincerity wasn’t looking comical. She wasn’t very used to be taken seriously. 

So she gasped when the Princess’s eyes locked with hers and a gracious look of solemnity came over her face. And then the Princess was reaching out and touching her—her, a simple goofy peasant girl’s—hands, clasping them like a promise. 

“I believe you, and I accept your oath. In turn, I will meet it. I will only laugh when you have drawn it truly, and I will share my true emotions with you always.” Allura’s graceful fingers rubbed thoughtlessly along her own, as if trying to soothe herself in the motion as she looked away from Romelle and then back again with a genuine, eyes closed smile. “That’s my oath to you, okay?”

Romelle felt shaky, like her legs were being swept up from under her. She was struck dumb by the Princess’s sincerity to her. Thankfully the Princess, ever so gracious and aware, saw Romelle was struggling. 

“Oh, Romelle I’m so sorry. Coran tells me sometimes my manners get away from me. Would you like to sit down? I feel ever so rude, you’ve been standing while I’ve been sitting all this time.”

“That’s okay, your majesty! I sit on my arse too much as it is, so it’s probably best my legs get a workout,” Romelle lifted her leg up in a flexible kick, before realizing she had sworn in front of the Princess. “Oh bullocks, I said arse in front of a Princess! My mother would kill me.”

“You also said—what was that word? Bullocks? That’s a new one.”

“Altea must have developed its swears in the last thousand years.”

“Well, it sounds suitably nasty. I am a fan. But on Altea, for every occasion we used Quiznak,” the Princess said with a wily grin, thrilled to be using language Coran would be scandalised. Why, his moustache would fly right off his face!

“Quizak?” Romelle tried to repeat, tilting her head so much that one of her pigtails flopped in front of her face.

“No, Quiznak.”

“Oh!” Romelle brightened. “Quiznah! That sounds so quizzical and wonderous. Altea sounds so fancy and delightful.”

Allura let her repeated mispronunciation go, pensive again. “It was.”

Romelle jumped down and sat too perhaps too close. It was a bad habit. She always liked to be close to her friends and family, and had been told that sometimes it was a bit much. “You are still Altea. You can bring us back.”

“Romelle, I must be frank. I have lost my homeland and now I am losing my home. There will be no more tea parties in my bedroom with my mice, no more running down the corridors of my childhood in my socks, no more memory room.”

“These are your memories?”

“This is how I remember Altea, yes.”

“Wow,” she gasped, looking around the fields. “It was so beautiful.”

“Yes,” Allura tried to speak through her tightening throat. 

“This is the castle of a fairy-tale,” Romelle said in awe, trying to keep her centred. “The technology of the Ancients is beyond compare, this wonderous flying castle, this beautiful room. Straight out of a fairy-tale, just like you, Princess!” 

Allura blinked at her. Romelle blinked back, gasping in horror as she realized what she had just said. How embarrassing! How obvious did she have to be? Now she would have made her so uncomfortable.

To Romelle’s surprise and utter delight though, a colour an even deeper pink than the flowers surrounding them came over Allura’s checks. Dumbstruck, she spluttered. “I am much more cantankerous and moodier than a fairy-tale, surely you are too kind.”

“I didn’t mean to offend,” Romelle said lightly. “Only to please. These flowers … I have never seen them before. Do they have a meaning?”

“They were widespread on Altea,” Allura educated, plucking one and bringing it to her nose before bringing it to Romelle’s. “Some would say a weed, but my father couldn’t dare bring himself to make a royal edict for their removal. They were my favourite and his, and my mother would tend to them in the gardens. Said they reminded her of us, hardy, sweet and resilient. My father said it reminded him of some of the colours in my mother’s eyes”

“I agree with your mother,” Romelle said. “If it’s not remiss, you and your paladins are the most brave and resilient I know. Sweet enough to believe and help a stranger, too.”

“I would like to believe anybody would help someone in need,” Allura murmured.

“What do they really mean, though? The flowers?”

“They are called Juniberries. They were the flower of mourning on Altea. And now I mourn for Altea.”

Romelle flinched, having destroyed the mood again. “They seem healing though. Pleasant memories.”

“I made my own with my parents,” Allura smiled, slightly. “Whenever I need to think, I come sit with them. It’s like my mother and father are still with me. The room can even get the scent right.”

“It’s beautiful,” Romelle murmured.

“They are,” Allura said standing up. She looked around the room sadly. “But now I think it is time to say goodbye. Earth still needs saving.”


End file.
